


Haunted by the Ghost of You

by TrippinOverMyFandoms



Series: Swords And Arrows [7]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: M/M, its so soft, rated t for depressing stuff, this is the softest ive ever written these boys, well maybe anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 04:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20772425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrippinOverMyFandoms/pseuds/TrippinOverMyFandoms
Summary: sladiver week day 3 - vulnerableOliver spends too long out as the Green Arrow and comes home stuck in vigilante mode. Slade is there to help.





	Haunted by the Ghost of You

**Author's Note:**

> set somewhere in season 4. Tone for the fic is The Night We Met by Lord Huron.  
also this is my last entry for sladiver week for now :(  
When work, school, and life calm down a bit I plan on going back and filling the other prompts
> 
> keep an eye out on youtube though because I have something planned for sladiver week I'll post there ;)

Oliver leaned against the cool wall of the elevator as it took him down the apartment building. Most people went up but he had gotten into a habit of changing out of his Arrow suit on the rooftop and then going down to the space he lived in. The ride was reasonably short and as soon as he exited he was sure to keep quiet. Oliver wasn't sure of the time but the brightening sky told him it was already morning. He could already hear Felicity rant about how he should have turned in earlier.

His footsteps were silent and even his keys didn't make a sound as he pulled them from his pocket to unlock the door. The lock turning was the only sound and even that was quiet, up until the creak of the door as he pushed it open.

He began to curse it in his head until he realized that there was light over the sink, along with a lamp by the couch. Immediately he drops the duffle bag containing the green leather and various weapons silently to the floor. His instincts suspect foul play. He almost pulls one of his arrows from the bag until he spots a familiar face staring back at him from the couch.

"What are you doing up?" Oliver says with a sigh, leaving the bag where it was and tossing his keys into the bowl resting on a table by the door for that exact purpose. If he didn't do it he would lose the keys and end up locked out.

"I don't sleep," Slade says simply. It's apparent to Oliver that he's been waiting on him, most likely the whole evening. Oliver scoffs and heads to the kitchen, which isn't far in the small apartment. 

"Yeah well... that's not healthy. I've told you not to wait on me like that." With the sun rising he figured he might as well start a pot of coffee. 

"Neither is your choice of profession. I'm sure it's what kept you out so long since a few cold ones with the boys doesn't usually go until nearly six in the morning." So that's what time it was. Oliver's back is turned and he can't see Slade's face but he can hear the sarcasm dripping from his tone. Something he's rather famous for actually.

Oliver simply huffs as a response.

Silence dawns and the only sound is the coffee as it drips into the pot. Oliver's gaze is fixed on the brown stream of liquid and only occasionally switches to the curling streams of steam.

Suddenly there's a noise like a soft thump to his left over by the small dining table and he flicks his gaze rather quickly to it. His hairs stand on end and his fists clench. One foot poised and ready to carry him back to the duffle that held his arrows.

Seeing Slade standing there didn't help ease him. The other man looked somewhat disappointed as he watched Oliver. He tries not to look at him, instead, he attempts to look over Slade's shoulder and out the window behind him where he can clearly see the sky turning deep pink.

"That's what I thought." He hears Slade mumble and out the corner of his eye, he sees him return to the couch. He begins to question how he made it to the dining space without him hearing but shuts that down instantly when he reminds himself that Slade is a former assassin.

Oliver turns back to the coffee which is finishing up. He's just about to pull it prematurely so he can pour himself a cup, when he hears Slade call, "Come here."

"Give me a minute," Oliver grumbles, going to the cabinet to pull a mug from one of the shelves.

"Come here," Slade repeats, this time more commanding and a bit slower as if he wasn't understood the first time. Oliver sighs and gives in, leaving his spot in the kitchen to head to the living room. He hates it but there's this part of him that's still unsure and a little scared of Slade. He knows what the man is capable of and he doesn't want to end up with tension just because he prioritized coffee over his boyfriend.

Boyfriend. That word still felt so strange to Oliver even though that's what they were to each other now. Ever since the mirakuru had worn off mostly, they picked up their relationship where it left off on the island and got an apartment together.

"What do you want?" Oliver asks sharply and rather irritably, something catches his attention out the corner of his eye at the window and he turns his gaze to it. Just a bird.

"I don't like your tone." Slade is only half-joking. He pats the spot next to him on the couch and Oliver just rolls his eyes. He knows he resembles a moody teen more than a frustrated adult who just wants some coffee, but at the moment it can't be helped.

He's about to ask Slade what he wants again, but the other man wraps his arms around him, pulls him closer.

"What are you doing?" Oliver only verbally protests, letting Slade pull him across his lap so his feet are now on the long couch as well, head on Slade's shoulder.

"It's time to turn vigilante mode off kid." Oliver shivers when he feels his fingers against his scalp. He knows what Slade is getting at and suddenly he feels rather rigid in his hold. He tries to wiggle a little to at least attempt to play along and get comfortable.

"It's not that easy." He says as if that explains it all. It wasn’t. Sometimes at the end of a night, Oliver would get trapped in this emotionless void. Every sense on edge, heart unfeeling and head focusing on every sound he and the world made.

One time the team had been joking about what animal they would all be if they weren’t people. Someone had said that Thea reminded them of a deer. He can’t remember now who started it, he wasn’t part of the conversation. He can distinctly, however, remember Laurel saying he was more like a deer than his sister.

“Yeah sure Thea looks like a deer but as vigilant as Ollie is? He’s like a stag, constantly watching over his herd.” She was right, but her words were mostly missed because everyone was distracted by her unintentional pun.

Oliver had put it into consideration later and realized how jumpy he was. He thought about deer and even had watched videos on them when he got home. He could see some resemblance if he was being honest.

"Then let me help." Slade’s words shock him out of his deep thoughts. He startles and just about jumps off the couch, but Slade’s arms hold him still. His feeling of unease becomes more apparent to him and he tries to shut it off but he doesn’t know how. He’s stuck and he knows it. Usually, he lets it pass. Usually it’s something that demands to be felt that brings him back. But that took time.

“I don’t know how you could.” He tells Slade, voice quiet as he stares up at the ceiling.

Slade sighs but it’s not audible. Oliver knows he has because he feels his chest rise and fall heavy once and then settles back into a rhythm.

“You know when I said I don’t sleep?” He asks. He’s awfully calm for what seems like such a heavy topic for Oliver. He knows better than to question him, but Slade is provoking. Or at least he thought he was, but he doesn’t give Oliver much of a chance to answer.

“I don’t sleep without you,” Slade admits, Oliver really wants to get up because he feels the slight skip where Slade breathes in again instead of out then releasing a long exhale, “part of it is because I worry. I’m not out there with you to protect you. If you’re late like tonight I can’t help the feeling that you won’t come back at all.”

Oliver feels bad instantly. He knows he should have called to let Slade know it would be a while but he was busy and he didn’t want to wake him just in case he was asleep. He knew deep down that there was a good chance he wasn't asleep but it was always the excuse he used so Slade wouldn't worry. Clearly a wasted effort.

"But," Slade shifts a little and Oliver has to readjust himself to get comfortable, he's more relaxed, but he blames that on how Slade is messaging his scalp with one hand and the other slowly running up and down his arm. The other man's breathing his father apart and Oliver turns his gaze from the ceiling to look at him. His gaze is focused on the cold fireplace and something about it makes him shiver. The feeling of warmth and security follows when Slade holds him tighter. He returns the gesture by nuzzling his head into his shoulder. 

Then Slade continues, "If I do try to sleep and I wake up without you there I worry I've done something. Because I've been trapped in nightmares before where I've hurt you or damned things so you aren't there with me."

Oliver swears he hears his voice crack at least once but he can't be certain. What he is certain of is the glint just over Slade's lower lid of the remaining eye. Oliver shifts and moves one hand to rest on his cheek, using his thumb to wipe away the tear that has formed. 

"You don't have to worry about that," Oliver says in a low voice, he's startled when Slade suddenly looks down at him and speaks again.

"Cut the bullshit. I've seen you get skittish around me kid. You have every reason to be. I can't swear I'm fully back in my right mind and I don't know if I'll ever be. You're a saint for putting up with me Oliver."

In the end, he grins. It's soft and to an outsider, it would look unnatural. But to Oliver who knew Slade on the island before the mirakuru, it's a good thing. Even if it's bittersweet, the love that's behind it radiates and he's instantly reminded of the warm lazy days which came few and far between but still enjoyed nonetheless. 

For a minute Oliver doesn't feel like a messed up vigilante dating a man who should be his mortal enemy, living together in a crappy apartment in the bad part of town. For a minute he lets himself live in a world where they were rescued before Ivo ever got involved. That they live together in a house that fits them and maybe a dog. That they're just two happy men who stayed up way too late for whatever reason. 

Then he remembers Slade called him a saint. That's definitely not right. He wants to make a sarcastic comment but settles for, "Let's agree to disagree."

And all of a sudden he feels so selfish. Because Slade has just bared himself to Oliver at his expense so that he would come out of the Green Arrow headspace. Slade has just used his own feelings to remind Oliver that he has them too. 

"I'll try to call you next time." It's not a promise, but he swears to himself he'll try. "Or maybe you could just come with me. You have been doing pretty good. I'd say you're clear." 

Slade huffs and nods in an agreement that's only meant to appease him for now. He knows that Slade still doesn't trust himself. It's been a year since Oliver got him out of the ARGUS prison on Lian Yu and two since the siege. 

They still had a lot to work on, but things were definitely getting better. For now, Oliver lets himself float back off to his dream world and allows himself to believe that maybe one day they could have a house with a yard and a dog.

He's always wanted a dog.


End file.
